Alternate Ending One
by Vaneria Potter
Summary: Look at the title. Alternate endings to Children and Fellowships where Natasha returns to her own world. Can time and space keep apart two souls meant to be together? Please read and tell me what you think. NOW RE-DONE
1. Alternate Ending 1: Natasha

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. It belongs to Professor Tolkien and the only things I gain are the reviews.

Summary: Alternate Ending to 'Children and Fellowships'. What if Natasha was pulled back to her own world?

**

* * *

Alternate Ending – Natasha**

Natasha's Point of View

I lie here on my bed in the house I grew up in.

I am dying. No matter how many people tell me that I will be fine and it is just a passing stage, I know the truth. My friends and relations say that I was badly affected by the months I spent in a coma. They say that it knocked years off my life.

They are wrong; it is not nearly as easily explained as that. The fact is that I have lost the will to live.

It sounds like something out of a third – rate soap opera, but it is true.

When I was eighteen, a car crashed into the childcare centre I worked at. Myself and three of the children I cared for were knocked into a coma. Two of them awakened not long after, but the third, Bella, and I stayed that way for months.

Crazy as it may sound, that coma threw us into a different world. A world where mystical beings were truth, where I indirectly fought incredible evil. A world where I befriended the niece of a king, where I was adopted by the steward of a great kingdom. A world where I loved a king and would have married him, where I would have stayed had things been different.

Someone had written a book about it, calling it The Lord of the Rings.

Close enough, but he was too distant, to aloof from the people he wrote about. I knew them as they were in life, rather than as characters in a book.

Eowyn: niece of King Theoden, strong and proud, but fettered by the chains of tradition and expectations of how women should act. I nearly laughed when someone complained and tried to make her behave in a 'lady-like' fashion only days after she killed the Witch-King of the Nazgul.

Denethor: Steward of Gondor, driven near to madness by the palantir into which he looked, trying to protect his people. Times were desperate, and he was willing to try anything to protect his people and keep the forces of Mordor at bay.

Aragorn: Trying to fight who he was, who he was destined to become. Gradually accepting the role he was born to bear. He was a paradox in many ways, but he was also a great king.

Boromir: A noble man, who was seduced by the ring as it fed on his desire to protect his people. Who realized what was happening to him and found the strength to fight it in order to protect others.

Faramir: The younger son who tried so hard to win his father's love and approval. Who only gained it when he came too close to death that Denethor finally realized what he stood the chance of losing. The man who loved a shield maiden, who accepted her the way she was.

Frodo: I knew little of him, aside from his great compassion and strength of will. He bore the One Ring for months, nearly dying in the attempt.

Sam: Devoted entirely to his master. He was what we would term 'the ordinary man', and he liked it that way. He gave Frodo the strength to carry on, finding hope when all seemed lost.

Merry and Pippin: One was rarely found without the other close by. Pranksters, they still matured greatly during the quest, somehow managing to maintain their mischievous streak.

Gimli and Legolas: Those two were never far apart, although I laugh to think of how the rest of their people must have reacted. Elves and Dwarves did not get along, period. Sometimes I think it an unwritten law. Their interaction and constant bickering was never anything short of entertaining, however

Eomer: The only man I could ever truly love. My soul mate, for whom I was willing to stay in Middle-Earth, never returning to this world. The one I could not live without, once we realized our feelings. He loved me in return, despite my qualities that would have been considered unusual, indeed because of them. I will love him until the end of time, and can only hope that we will be reunited in death.

_

* * *

Alice's Point of View_

I sit by my sister's side, marvelling at the way things have turned out.

I may claim otherwise, but I know that my eldest sister is dying. I also know that while the official reason is that the coma took years off her life, that is not why we will lose her so young.

I have said many things to my sisters throughout our lives, most of them only in an attempt to get on their nerves. It seems strange that the ones that I often meant the least are the ones that turned out true.

I would claim that she was so stuck in the middle ages that she would never get a boyfriend or marry. I would say that she wouldn't live until eighty, if her head did not come out of the clouds.

I was right, after a fashion. Natasha did not date or marry, although not because of her refusal to go with the flow in how people normally acted in our time. She just wasn't interested in romance, as though she was perfectly content to save herself for someone who did not seem to be coming, no matter how long she waited.

Nor will she live to see eighty, as it will not be long now, and she is not far past fifty. Alright, so it isn't that great a margin, but still.

The coma changed her. Before, she was a quiet person, gentle and passive, though she had great inner strength and a flame of life that burned brighter than a bonfire. After, she was still quiet, but would also spend time with a faraway look in her eyes when she thought that no one was watching, as though she could see something that no one else could. While she was more confident, and more willing to stand up for herself, her flame began to slowly dwindle, as though put in a large room with the exits sealed, dying from lack of oxygen. It was not oxygen that Natasha lacked, but something that none of us ever found.

Now I sit on the end of the bed, watching as my sister's light splutters and begins to go out.

_

* * *

Sarah's Point of View_

I am going to miss her.

Stuff what the doctors say, and all the empty platitudes. My sister is fading from a broken heart and there is nothing any of us can do about it.

To be frank, I am surprised that she lasted this long. Thirty-two years is quite a drawn-out death, after all.

Perhaps she stayed for our parents and grandparents, not wanting to leave until they did. Perhaps she decided to stick around until she was sure that she could leave Alice and I alone with each other without us tearing each other to pieces.

I know she stayed for her children. We never found out who the father was, but Natasha somehow became pregnant during her coma. Even though she was only twenty when she gave birth, my twin refused to give them up.

Twins share a bond with each other. Don't ask me too explain it, just accept that I know. It was like Natasha knew that something had happened, in the place that only she could see, and that it was time for her to let go.

I can feel as Natasha's last breath leaves her body and her spirit breaks free.

Alice bows her head then jumps up with a shriek. I look to see what is wrong and follow her example.

What seems to be a ghost, or apparition, is standing at the foot of the bed.

He is dressed in armour, though it appears to be more like extra-toughened leather. A sword is at his side and he looks like he has stepped out of a storybook of the middle ages.

His hair is long and dark blonde, while his eyes are an entrancing dark blue. He looks to be in his late twenties or very early thirties, and is defiantly one you could drool over.

He ignores us and walks past to where Natasha's head rests. He speaks in a foreign language, holding out a hand to her. Obviously, he has missed the fact that she is not breathing, and that her face is the white of death.

Alice opens her mouth, probably to point that out, and then snaps it shut again. I do not blame her

Until now, I have had little faith in the gods, and even less in ghost stories and the idea that spirits are visible for the first few moments after they leave their bodies. What happened next changed those ideals. I am _so_ a believer now.

Looking similar to the strange man, a second spirit rises from my sister's body.

It is Natasha as he was just before she was in the coma, though her eyes nowhold a look of completion, as though she now has the missing piece of her heart. She seems almost nineteen, wearing a green dress that would not have looked out of place on a medieval noblewoman. She accepts his outstretched hand, speaking three small words. "Eomer. You came."

He flashes her a smile. "I said that I would see you again. In this life or the next."

She returns the smile, then kisses him gently.

Alice's mouth is open again, this time in shock. Both spirits start to fade, until we are left alone in Natasha's room, sitting with a sister who has now left this life.

_

* * *

A/N – Yes, I know the end was pure fluff and very unlikely. Then again, falling into Middle Earth is hardly likely either. Should I do a second chapter set in Middle Earth where we see Eomer?_

Review and tell me what you think.

Nathalia.


	2. Alternate Ending 1: Eomer

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. It all belongs to Professor Tolkien. The only things I gain are the reviews.

Summary: Alternate Ending to 'Children and Fellowships'. What if Natasha had been pulled back to her own world?

**

* * *

Chapter Two – Eomer**

Lothiriel's Point of View

This is not fair.

I know it sounds childish to say that, but it is true.

In fairytales and stories, when the king/prince/hero is dying, it is always either swearing vengeance on his killer or with the name of his wife/fiancée/the fair princess on his lips.

My husband, Eomer, King of Rohan, is dying. He cannot swear vengeance upon the passage of time, as he is now ninety-two, but nor does he call my name, or think of me as he lies there. Perhaps it is foolish of me to think that he would, but a woman can dream, can she not?

I was little more than half of Eomer's age when we married, Seventeen to his Thirty. It was a marriage to secure an alliance between Rohan and Dol Amroth. In truth, no such marriage was required, for the friendship between Eomer and my father was strong.

Eomer was young when he became king after his uncle, King Theoden, was killed in the war of the ring. I had thought that with so many years ahead of us that he may grow to love me, even to only a fraction of the extent that he loved the bitch who claimed and stole his heart.

It is cruel, and wrong of me, but I do not care. I am _glad_ that _she_ was killed by orcs, even if Eomer came close to following _her_ into death. The worst of it was that most of Rohan, not to mention a large portion of Minas Tirith, mourned _her_ passing as though they would a Queen or life-long friend, rather than someone they had known for less than a year. After all, _she_ was only a common-born girl, who probably tried to seduce Eomer in the hopes of improving her station.

I think that almost every day, every time Eomer gets that strange expression on his face and looks into the distance, as though seeing something that no one else could. I think it every time that my husband turns to say something to me, then stops and I see something flash in his eyes and know that he wanted to say it to _her_ instead. I curse _her_ every time I see him looking at the sketch book that he and Lady Eowyn had made, knowing that it's pages are filled with a tall woman with green eyes and unruly auburn hair.

I have only voiced these sentiments once, however. After that I never dared to.

It was shortly before the birth of our son, Prince Elfwine. I was the Queen, and carried the heir of Rohan. That prompted me to over-estimate my importance to King Eomer. He had been withdrawn lately, almost brooding. I had heard my sister-in-law explaining her theory to her husband, saying that Eomer had never forgotten _her_ and was thinking of all the might-have-beens if she had stayed. That night, I had confronted Eomer about it. He told me that it was none of my concern and turned away. I lost my temper and told him exactly what I thought of both _her_ and of the effect it was having on him. I still shiver at the memory of his reaction.

My husband went very still and I wondered if I had gone too far. I had. Eomer's voice could have frozen the fires of Mount Doom and sent a balrog running for cover.

I remember his words as though they had been spoken mere hours ago. "Do not seek to raise yourself by condemning her, Lothiriel. Our marriage is one of convenience, which I am still sure was your idea, rather than Lord Imrahil's. I married for duty, because Rohan needed an heir. Had it been otherwise I would have remained unwed." I started to turn away, but he grasped my wrist, pulling me back. "You wished to be blunt on the matter, I will do the same. Natasha will always be in my heart and my mind and nothing will change that."

I slept alone that night, as I have every night since the birth of our son.

Even now, I silently curse the woman who Eomer has never stopped loving.

_

* * *

Eowyn's Point of View_

My brother is dying, although to be honest, I wonder that he has lived this long. We all feared that we would lose him as well when Natasha was taken back to her own world. Many would wonder at the choice of words: 'taken', not 'returned'. I say taken because Natasha had made a choice to stay in this world. Lothiriel once asked in private if she could have returned because her choice was insincere. Hardly, one had only to see the look of horror and anguish on her face as some unseen force pulled her, trying to fight it and stay with us, with Eomer.

Worst of all was the fact that this happened only weeks after Natasha had accepted Eomer's offer of marriage.

You know I had worried when Eomer asked for a last request. Most of the time when someone asks that you know that the request will be something silly, like 'build me a coffin of gold and throw it into the sea'. Not this time. He only asked that we bury him in the House of Death that was made for Natasha, so that if they could not be together in life, they would be so in death.

I hope that they will be. There was never anyone else for either of them and I know that Eomer has never loved Lothiriel, and even the small regard he had for her was lost when she told him (And the rest of the city, who could hear her yelling) what she thought of my friend.

There are few who could ever imagine my brother as an artist, but in one instance it is true. There are whole books filled with sketches of her.

Natasha riding with Eomer, smiling up at him. The two of us sparring, her face intense with concentration. Natasha running in a meadow, playing a game of catch with a group of children. She was one of the few women I knew who could get completely filthy without cringing at each speck of dirt.

Natasha and Eomer in the rose gardens of Minas Tirith, where he had proposed to her, or dancing together, or just sitting together, laughing and talking. My personal favorite is the one which captured the expression on my Husband and brother-in-law's faces on the occasions when they caught Natasha and Eomer alone together.  
Is that look exclusive to the House of Hurin, or a universal expression when protective brothers catch baby sister and her boyfriend in such a situation?

Natasha told me something once, when I was trying to decide if a single meeting was enough to make a decision on a relationship, even if both participants were obviously in love with each other. She told me not to rush, that "It is lack of friendship, not lack of love, that makes for an unhappy marriage. Get to know him before you decide."

Natasha was the best friend I ever had, despite our many differences, and I hope that I will one day see her again. I probably will, but if not, I will content myself with the knowledge that there is no way any power could keep them apart in soul, so they will meet again.

_

* * *

Elfwine's Point of View_

My family sits around my father's deathbed. My aunt Eowyn sits on one side and my mother at the foot of the bed. I sit opposite my aunt with my wife, Gilraen, daughter of King Elessar, and my two children, Natasha and Theoden.

Theoden was the name of my Grandmother's brother, my father's uncle. Natasha is a name that I hear often, but is rarely spoken out loud for some reason. My father suggested the name when she was born, for after only a few days, her eyes darkened to green and her hair became a rarely seen brown colour, which singled her out in a race that was mostly blond.

Even as he lies dying, we can sometimes make out father whispering that name, his voice filled with love, joy and sorrow, along with an anger directed at something unknown. The Natasha my father calls to died long before I was born. Most people say that she was killed by orcs, but my father, my aunt and uncle, my uncle's brother and my father-and-mother-in-law all hint at something else.

My mother never speaks of her, but frowns when she is mentioned. My aunt was friends with her, and claims that Mother is jealous that Natasha still holds my father's heart.

From what I do know of her, Natasha was of Common birth, a young woman just short of twenty when she arrived in these lands. She had auburn hair, green eyes and a gift with children. My aunt, my father's sister, stated that she also had a talent for looking past _what_ one was and seeing _who_ one was.

She was said to be a rarity amongst women: bright, quick-witted and gentle, yet intimidating, along with a bizarre sense of humour. She was ordinary and liked it that way, but that did not stop her from loving my father, prepared to give up everything for him, nor did it stop him from falling for her in return.

My parents' marriage is an arranged one, and neither of them are what you could term happy in it. Mother was in love with the idea of my father; while Father has never stopped loving the woman he calls for. I have it on very good authority that my parents have not even shared the same bed since I was conceived. The servants know almost everything, after all.

There are times when I wonder what it would have been like if Natasha had lived. Would I have siblings? Probably.Would my parents be happier if they were not married to each other? I don't know aboutMother, but the general opinion is that Father certainly would.I will never know for sure, but there is no harm in dreams.

_

* * *

Eomer's Point of View_

I will die soon, but the thought does not fill me with pain or fear. Rather, I feel a sense or relief and coming peace.

My greatest hope is that I will be reunited with the only woman I could ever truly love.

I thought I would die when Natasha was lost, and the healers tell me that I nearly did. My sister brought me back by using a fair amount of emotional blackmail, saying that Natasha would not wish me dead.

I eventually married Lothiriel of Dol Amroth because it was pointed out that Rohan needed an heir. But I have never loved her.

Natasha once said that it is lack of friendship, not lack of love, which makes for an unhappy marriage. I could get out of it by saying that Lothiriel and I never knew each other, but the fact is that I never had room in my heart for anyone else.

I first met Natasha after the battle of Helm's Deep. She did not come running to cheer for the riders who barely made it in time for the battle, but busied herself caring for the children who had been hidden in the caves or survived fighting in the battle. That intrigued me, as did her muttered remarks about 'dramatic entrances' and 'useless, fawning airheads'.  
My love for her only grew over time. Unlike most women that I had hoped to be friends with, Natasha did not immediately expect a marriage proposal after a few days of knowing each other. She was willing to accept friendship, and to get to know each other first. She also understood and accepted that there would be times when duty would have to come first, when I would have to put her after something else. Lothiriel could not, and often tried to raise a fuss about it.

Eowyn once said that friends will laugh with you in the good times, but a best friend is the one who will hold you and cry with you during the bad. Natasha barely knew my uncle, but she held me, rocking me as she would one of the children she looked after. She said nothing, no empty words of comfort. I asked why, and she stated that "I am not going to say I know what you are going through, because I don't. I am not going to tell you that everything will be fine, because I don't know that it will. I think too much of you to insult you like that."

My sight begins to darken, but in the distance a light begins to form. A light in which a familiar face smiles at me, a calm, loving gaze.

Her name escapes my lips for the last time as I begin to let go. "Natasha."

Then everything is pure light, except for a single person, who holds out her hand, and leads me away.

_

* * *

3rd person Point of View_

Even as life begins to flee from the body of King Eomer of Rohan, a shimmer began in the air nearby.

It consolidated, weaving together to form a tall young woman with dark hair and green eyes.

She is wearing an embroidered forest-green tunic that falls to her knees over a long white dress. A chain of intricately wrought silver adorns her neck. There is a ring on her forth finger as she walks over to the bed and touches the still face. She turns to give Eowyn a fleeting smile, then looks back, studying the man's face intently.

His eyes flutter open as he sees her. A single word escapes his lips, her name.

Then he is gone, and a figure, translucent as the young woman, rises from the bed.

It is Eomer as he was before he became king, as a young man of twenty-seven. He is dressed in the armour of the Rohirrim, although his head is uncovered. He takes the young woman's hand and smiles at her. "Natasha." She says nothing, only smiles. "I said we would meet again."

Now the young woman speaks, finishing the sentence. "In this life or the next. Now come, for our time in this life has ended."

They begin to fade, and soon they are gone, leaving a room of people sitting there, wondering at what had just happened.

_

* * *

A/N – So, the Alternate ending is finished! The sequel to 'Children and Fellowships' is in the process of being written, but I have to go to a wedding this weekend so I am not sure when it will be posted. I am thinking of turning the 'Children and Fellowships' universe into a series. Can anyone think of a good name?_

Review and tell me what you think.

Thank you, everyone!

Nathalia


	3. Alternate Ending 1: Afterlife

Disclaimer: Do we really need to go over this again? I do not own Lord of the Rings.

Summary: See previous chapters.

A/N – Winter Queens badgered me into writing what would happen to Natasha and Eomer in the Afterlife.

**

* * *

Alternate Ending – Afterlife**

Two figures walk over rolling hills and grass plains, hand in hand.

A young woman with dark hair and green eyes moves with gentle grace, her bearing suggesting a quiet strength. The man beside her is her opposite. With dark-blonde hair and blue eyes, his gait is one of power and confidence, his manner proud.

The man looks slightly confused. "Natasha, where are we?"

The woman smiles at the man she will share eternity with. "Where do people usually go after they die, Eomer? I hope you did not think your deathbed just an elaborate dream."

The lord of Rohan smiles at the woman who should have been his wife. Who always had been, in his heart. "When I was forced to marry to produce an heir I found myself hoping that it was just a vivid nightmare."

The woman's cheeks were touched with colour. "Come, there are things to see."

* * *

A young lady of twenty years lies on a bed, exhausted but satisfied.

Two bundles rest on her lap, one blue, and one pink. The lady smiles down at them, her eyes filled with love and a touch of deepest sorrow.

_**The scene changes...**_

A woman of twenty-five stands in a kitchen, setting food onto a table.

She calls out, summoning someone, although no sound comes from her mouth. Two children, a boy and a girl, appear. They are twins, both with tall with brown hair and blue eyes. The woman looks up, beckoning them to the table. She is obviously their mother, although her eyes are green, and hold a glint of well-hidden sorrow, while the twins have a touch of blonde that their mother lacks.

_

* * *

Eomer looks at his companion, his expression a myriad of emotions, shock and sorrow starting to prevail._

Natasha shakes her head slightly. " 'Behind every great man there is a woman rolling her eyes'. What is the usual result of a man and a woman lying together? Though I'll admit that such activities are not supposed to take place in a secret glade a week before getting married"

Eomer's eyes are wide as he stares at her.

She nods. "Yes. Ours. That is what usually happens when a man and a woman lie together. I never married, or even dated, when I returned. The girl is Emer, the boy is Nathan."

Eomer looks at her again, then takes her hand and leads her away. "Now it is my turn to show you something, although I do not look upon it as pleasant."

* * *

A dark-haired seventeen-year-old walks toward a thirty-year-old man. She is dressed in a wedding gown and has a satisfied look on her face, while his face is blank, emotionless,

though a skilled observer could tell that he would rather be elsewhere.

The two people exchange vows and a brief kiss, as the ceremony dictates. The yearning regret in the man's eyes says that the man obviously wishes that the girl were someone else, someone he cannot have.

**The scene changes...**

The man and the woman stand in a room, facing each other. The man is rigid with anger, eyes blazing. The woman is yelling at him, her belly rounded with child. She stops speaking, glaring at her husband. His expression is deadly with false calm as he replies to her raging.

The woman tries to turn away; he pulls her back to face him, says something more and then walks out of the room, leaving her to stare at his back.

_

* * *

Eomer looks at Natasha, his eyes sad. "I am sorry. After you were taken, I stalled for as long as I could, but Rohan had to have an heir. I eventually married Lothiriel of Dol Amroth. I loved my son, but not his mother."_

Natasha inclines her head, eyes soft and understanding. "You married out of duty, and hated every second of it. There is nothing to apologize for."

He takes her hand and leads her away again. "There are ways to see what might have been. Do you wish to see?"

She shakes her head in the negative. "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. Hardly relevant, given the circumstances, but I would prefer not to know. There are other parts of our lives to see and share, if you want to go on."

They walk off together, each seeing the other's life, rejoicing in the presence so long denied to them.

Eternity awaited.

"There's a calm surrender, to the rush of fate.  
When the heat of a rolling wind, can be turned away.  
An enchanted moment, and it sees me through.  
It's enough for this restless warrior, just to be with you.

Can you feel the love tonight?  
It is where we are.  
It's enough for this restless wanderer,  
That we've got this far.  
Can you feel the love tonight?  
How it's laid to rest.  
It's enough to make kings and vagabonds,  
Believe the very best.

There's a time for everyone if they only learn,  
That the twisting kaleidoscope moves us all in turn.  
There's a rhyme and reason to the wild out doors,  
When the heart of this star-crossed warrior beats in time with yours.

Can you feel the love tonight?  
It is where we are.  
It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer,  
That we've got this far.  
Can you feel the love tonight?  
How it's laid to rest.  
It's enough to make kings and vagabonds  
Believe the very best.

It's enough to make kings and vagabonds  
Believe the very best."

_

* * *

A/N#2 – The song is 'can you feel the love tonight?' Written and sung by Elton John for 'The Lion King'._

My sister Winter Queens wanted to see what happened after Natasha and Eomer entered the afterlife.

Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing.

Nathalia.


End file.
